Ariel peered up at him, her doe-like eyes appearing truly repentant. “Do you think they’ll clip my wings before I’ve had a chance to use them? Or, Heaven forbid, cast me out?” Tears shimmered on her lashes.
He patted her hand awkwardly. “I don’t think so. Let’s just wait and see and not jump to any conclusions. Father is very merciful.”
She dipped her head. “I meant well, I promise. I guess I’m just not cut out for Love Detail.” She sniffed. “I really blew it, didn’t I?”
Michael couldn’t help but remember feeling the same way on more than one occasion. The Tudor Incident had weighed heavily on his heart until recently. Even Jed and Kyle had made him question his qualifications as a cupid. But, he knew, life was a learning experience. Even for an angel.
“No, Ariel, you didn’t blow it. You just . . . got overly enthusiastic. I’m sure Father took that into account.”
That brought a small smile out of her.
Gabriel pushed through the double glass doors, his face grim. Finally. At least it would be an answer, whatever it was.
Ariel sucked in a breath and reached over to grab Michael’s hand in a death grip.
Michael waited, his heart pounding. Gabriel held a gold-lined envelope in his hand that could’ve only come from one place.
Gabriel sat next to them. “Brother. Sister.”
Ariel swallowed loudly. “Hello.”
“Well,” Gabriel began, “I’ll get right to it. The leadership was shocked by your behavior, Ariel, and obvious disregard for the boundaries we have within our hierarchy and specified job descriptions. Not to mention it was a gross example of over-involvement in your Love Detail case.”
“But—” Ariel tried to interject.
Gabriel held up a hand and continued. “And, they find it shocking that you, as her superior, were so blatantly ignorant of her intentions.” He turned to Michael.
Michael had nothing.
Again, Ariel opened her mouth to defend either herself or Michael, but Gabriel cut in a second time. “So, I found no choice but to defend you as you’re on my team.”
They both stared, slack-jawed.
“I told them that, yes, your methods were unorthodox, but they worked. And I assured them that nothing like this would happen again. You cut it close this time.” He stood and stared them down. “But, for Heaven’s sake, don’t make a liar out of me.”
Chapter 40
Noble trudged through another workday at Gentry’s. It had been thirty-one days since he’d seen or spoken to Braelyn or Tristan. Thirty-one days, five hours, and seventeen minutes, but who was counting? And he was fucking miserable.
That night had shown him so many things about himself, what he wanted in life and had been denying himself unjustly for too many years, and now he couldn’t do a damned thing about it. What a cluster fuck.
Michael and Ariel, the dynamic cheerful duo, even seemed more reserved than usual. Jed was the only one who seemed to be on happy pills. But, since they had a bun in the oven, he gave him a pass and didn’t share his misery with him.
“So,” the blonde who was perusing his tattoo designs said, casting a serious flirty smile his way. Hell, he’d forgotten she was still there. “What do you think is better? A rose, here?” She pointed her fancy, white-tipped nail at her nearly exposed breast. “Or a little dragonfly, here?” She pointed to her ass.
He shrugged. He didn’t give a shit what she got.
The front door bell jangled and mumbled voices sounded from the front. “Listen, both are nice. Why don’t you pick—”
“Noble,” Ariel’s soft voice, filled with something, called out. Excitement?
He turned. The air froze in his lungs.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
His mind had to be playing tricks on him.
“Someone’s here to see you,” Ariel said, her eyes twinkling. She shoved Braelyn forward. “Why don’t you let Michael take care of your client there so you two can, you know, talk?” She shot Michael a meaningful look.
Mike immediately jumped up like he had a tail and it was on fire. “Um, yes, hello. What can I do for you? A rose? That’s lovely!” He escorted the busty blonde bimbo right out of Noble’s station while Noble stood there like a stunned dodo bird.
Braelyn approached him, her steps hesitant as his eyes drank her in. She wore the same hip-hugging jeans and bright pink halter-top she’d worn the night she came for her tattoo—he knew because it was forever seared into his memory—and it looked better tonight because he hadn’t seen her in far too long.
She eventually reached him and peered up at him with her gorgeous tawny eyes. He wanted to literally eat her up.
“Braelyn.”
“Noble.”
“I’m assuming you came here tonight to see me?” he asked, mimicking the conversation they’d had the last time she came here.
Her face softened a bit. “I did.” She remembered.
He smiled. “Is that so?”
Her breath hitched and she nodded.
He paused a beat, trying to remember what he’d said next. “What can I do for you, Braelyn?”
She bit her lip. Released it. “A couple of things.”
“Oh?”
Her eyes dipped momentarily. “This is where I need to change things up a bit. I’m here because I’ve been ignoring you and I’m sorry.” She reached out and took his hand. “I want you to accept my apology.”
Good thing he was getting lots of practice with this forgiveness business. “Okay. You said a couple things. What else do you want?” he asked with a half-smile, knowing they’d played this game before and how much fun it’d been.
She didn’t miss a beat. “I want you to help me fulfill one of my fantasies.”
The woman was full of surprises. He loved that about her. Luckily for Little Noble, her fantasy was to come over to his place after work and talk things out. Phew. Not another tattoo. But he had a stop to make first that had been a long time in coming. So he left work early to take care of business.
He pulled into the Old Tabernacle Church’s parking lot and eyed the gray brick structure in the back. If you didn’t know it was a shelter, you’d pass it up and think it was just any other nondescript building. You’d never know people with no home, no hope, sat just inside its smeared glass doors.
He got out of the truck and slammed the door. The few steps to the entrance seemed to take forever. He knew, for better or worse, he’d be a different man when he left this place. But, if he had any hope of working out a life or a future for himself, it needed to be done. Now. He took a breath and pressed open the door. The blast of a space heater and the scent of stale coffee and donuts greeted him. To his left, ragged jackets and winter scarves piled down a coat rack; below it a child had left a battered Tonka truck. Just ahead and to the right cots lined the community living area and further ahead the dining area was bustling with activity.
A simple crucifix was the only real decoration in the room, and as Noble walked through, a shaft of light from the moon broke through the window and illuminated its golden edges.
He kept on going.
Before he made it to the dining hall, a weak voice stopped him. “Baptiste?”
He glanced over. He hadn’t noticed the frail body lying on one of the cots in the darkened corner, covered by a plaid blanket.
The old man tried to sit up. “Is that you?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled. “I knew you’d come.” He reached out his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Noble stared at his grandfather’s emaciated body, his bony hand. Even now, it was torturously hard to do this. But he put one foot in front of the other, determined to give this a shot, and hoped that God would me
et him halfway as he gripped his grandfather’s hand. Turned out this forgiveness business was an ongoing thing. And it wasn’t easy. The two men stared at each other for a long time, saying nothing.
Finally, Noble sat.
“I’m sorry,” his grandfather said.
“I know.” And he did.
“Can you forgive me?”
He looked his grandfather in the eye. Perhaps for the first time. “I’m trying.”
Braelyn paced nervously until she saw Noble’s truck pull into his driveway. Then everything in her calmed. This had been put off too long. She needed to talk to him.
She checked to make sure Tristan was still sleeping and ducked outside. She reached his house in record time and tapped on his door. He must’ve been waiting because he opened the door right away wearing a guarded expression that was a cross between suspicion and hopefulness.
“Hi.”
He tucked a hand in his jean pocket. “Hi.”
She shivered. “Can I come in?”
He moved aside and she brushed past him, loving that he still smelled like fresh shower and sandalwood. She paced to his living room, suddenly wishing for a shot of courage. “You got any of that Patrón?”
His brow winged up. “Why don’t you just tell me what you wanted to talk about? Because you sure didn’t seem interested in talking to me last month.”
Touché. She smiled. “I did thank you, right? I don’t really remember past all the hysterics.”
“Yes.”
She plopped down on his couch. Obviously this wasn’t going to be the slam dunk she’d hoped for when she waltzed into Gentry’s. “Well, I already apologized, but I’ll do it again.” She glanced up, but he wore the ultimate poker face, so she soldiered on. “If you couldn’t already tell, I have pretty serious trust issues with men, and when I thought Julian or Rory might’ve hurt Tristan that night I just lashed out—”
“Wait. You thought that even after I told you my bike was gone?”
“Well, no, I figured it out soon enough, but what I’m saying is I wasn’t thinking at all. I can get like that when it comes to my son.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it wasn’t that. Not really. You know about my history with men, well, most of it, anyway.” She dipped her head. This was harder than she thought.
“What else is there?” he asked, his voice gruff.
She sucked in a breath. “You asked me once if Julian was abusive . . .”
“Jezus, Braelyn. If you’re about to tell me he laid a hand on you or Tristan—”
“No,” she interrupted him. “He didn’t. I left before he could.” She rubbed her temple. “This is so hard to say out loud. I’m such a wimp.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “He thought I turned him in on narcotics charges, so he threatened Tristan. That’s why we moved to Texas. It’s one thing to be a dick to me. It’s something else altogether when you bring my son into it.”
Noble simply stared at her, his black eyes hard.
“But, the day Tristan took your bike, I also found out Julian was on the run after he’d nearly killed someone in a hit and run accident. I was petrified that he was running all the way to Texas for my boy.” She squeezed her eyes closed at the memory. “Just like he’d threatened. And even though I told that cop where they could probably find him, I was still scared and I had a knee-jerk reaction, shoving you in the same category of men as my exes. I pushed you away and it wasn’t fair.”
His jaw muscles unclenched as his face softened. “And what category is that, baby?”
She sighed and looked down at her toes. “Men who would break my heart.”
He didn’t say anything.
As the silence became deafening, the sound of her own breathing heavy in her ears, she finally chanced a peek at his face.
He seemed . . . confused.
“Noble?”
He sat next to her, his bulk dipping the sofa cushions. “Why would you think I’d break your heart?”
“Because all men do. I fall in love with them and they either hurt Tristan in some way, or hurt me. Same end result is my heart in shreds.”
He reached out and caressed the line of her jaw with his thumb. “So what changed? I thought we were just friends?” His gaze locked on hers.
“We were. We are,” she amended. Damn. This was not going at all like she’d hoped.
“I’m glad. Can’t have too many friends.” But his tone was soft, sexy. His fingertip just grazed the line of her lip. “So, did they find him?”
“Who?” His touch was driving her to distraction.
He grinned knowingly. “Douchebag who threatened Tristan.”
“Oh. Yes.”
And that had been a turning point for her. The day her friend Susan had called to say the news was reporting he’d been captured, exactly where she’d told them to look, was the day she realized she was free. And not just from Julian, though she’d had no choice but to speak up once she knew about the warrant. But free from her insecurity. From feeling constantly inadequate. Because it wasn’t about earning a man’s love or waiting to be hurt again.
It was about being free to love.
So what if her heart got broken?
As she studied Noble’s bottomless black eyes, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’d never harm her like Rory or Julian. She could risk a freefall on that.
He smiled, pulling her back. “I’m glad they got the bastard.” His voice was a mere whisper across her flesh as his lips found her neck, sending shivers through her body. “That saves me from having to kill him.”
“Noble.”
“Braelyn.” His fingers wound themselves in her hair and she could scarcely think. “You smell so good. Like peaches.”
“I . . . you do, too,” she admitted as her eyes drifted closed.
His lips brushed the corner of her mouth and her eyes popped open. He was a breath away. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you.”
“I know,” he whispered just before his lips claimed hers in a kiss so possessive it stole all conscious thought.
She sighed into his mouth as his hands moved along her ribs and belly and cupped her breasts. He moved to nip at her neck, grazing her with his teeth then kissing the sting away.
“You are so beautiful,” he said reverently as he paid special attention to the dip between her breasts. Then he glanced up and his dark eyes seized hers. “You have no idea how I’ve dreamed of you. How I’ve missed you.”
She could hardly breathe. Somewhere, in the sex-hazed recesses of her brain, she knew there was more to tell him, but she couldn’t think what it was at the moment. God, when he looked at her like that, like she was the only woman in the world.
“I’m sorry, too, baby,” he continued, his voice hoarse. He reached out and stroked her leg. “I’m not a man of many words. And I’m moody and solitary and—”
“And I love all that about you.” She put a finger to his lips as she found her words. “But you’ve also shown me what a real man is, Noble. You’re kind and gentle. Honorable. Sexy.” She smiled and yanked him to her so she could finally run her fingers through his hair. “Handy around the house. God help me, I love everything about you. I’m giving you my heart, and my son’s heart, so don’t you screw it up. This is it . . . my last shot at this.”
“Mine, too.”
She stood and held out her hand. “Take me to bed, Noble. Make love to me.”
He rose to his full height slowly, uncoiling like a rope. He gazed down on her like a starving man would take in a gourmet dessert. She reached out and touched his stomach through his T-shirt, hot and hard.
He leaned down and her eyes fluttered closed. His breath fanned the flesh of her cheek, but instead of finding her lips, he diverted and went for the sensitive skin just unde
r her ear. She whimpered as he took his precious time with that spot like a cat with a bowl of cream.
Then the other side. Her fingers gripped a handful of his shirt.
In the other room, his refrigerator hummed to life as his lips found hers again, his tongue just coming for a teasing taste.
His hands wrapped around and gripped her hips, sliding leisurely down to cup her bottom like he’d done it a hundred times, his hands a perfect fit.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured against her lips. “First thing I noticed about you.”
“My ass?”
“Mmm hmm.” He nibbled her lower lip. “It’s perfect. Just like the rest of you.”
She inhaled as his mouth found her neck’s sweet spot. “I think you’ve got me confused with . . . oh . . . you.”
He laughed against her throat. “Oh, no, it’s definitely you who’s perfect, baby.” He eased back long enough to pin her with his deep gaze. “Why do you think I call you Sweet Cheeks, anyway?”
Her mouth slacked open.
He took advantage and suckled until she responded and their tongues could play. His hands slid back up to her waist and tugged at the hem of her shirt. Then it was gone. His hot hands cruised up and down the skin of her back as he drew her close and put his skilled mouth back on her.
Then, bless it, her mind conjured a delicious image. She stepped away. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Turn around.”
He raised a confused brow, but did as instructed. She reached around and yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the vicinity of the . . . oh, who cared? All she cared about was looking her fill at his gorgeous, muscular, tattooed back.
She breathed a reverent sigh and traced one of the lines with her fingertip.
He moved his shoulders slightly, making the interwoven lines glide on his skin like an inked symphony.
It was beautiful and intricate. And sexy as hell.
She leaned in, wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips between his shoulder blades, her breasts brushing his bare back. He sucked in a breath, but otherwise stayed still. “Did this hurt?”
The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles) Page 30
